Iron and Alabaster
by Pandiichan
Summary: Set in Iron Man 2. She and Tony could make a novel worth reading, but she wouldn't admit it. They were ripe with drama. He was dying, and she had her secrets. There was even a plot twist concerning her old boss, his rival. Tony took care of the romance, even if it WAS X-Rated. It was a book within a book. They were just two characters searching for a happy ending. Tony x OC.


Iron and Alabaster

* * *

**AN: **The long-awaited Tony Stark goodness is here! I hope it lives up to the expectations you have of me and my stories.

My warning from the teaser about content and possibly uncomfortable themes still stands. Sorry if this first chapter sucks. I spent two days looking for more concrete information about the movie than what I found. It's not too awful, since I said before that I won't be basing it completely on the movie.

It just makes me feel uncomfortable.

**Also – hey, big announcement! **: I've finished my outline for my _first EVER _**Clint Barton** story! (Crowd goes: Yaaaay!) _In the Crosshairs _will be put up after this story is finished. If I feel plucky, I'll upload them simultaneously and spend my weekends doing an update rotation on them.

I own nothing but Ellowyn and her twin, and this twisted idea that I hope you all will come to love as you have done for _Doctor Patient Confidentiality _and _The Pursuit of Liberty_. Sorry if it does a bit of jumping around. This _is _the introductory chapter (and I've never written Tony Stark at length. I'll have to get in his head.)

Thanks to Kassandra J and Obsessive Compulsive Fangirl for reviewing the teaser.

At this time, I cannot comment on whether or not _Forget Me Not_ will turn into a story (if anyone is curious).

Reminder/warning: ripe with innuendo, sexual content, and naughtiness because Tony is a devilishly incorrigible man.

Enjoy!

* * *

Prologue: Buttons

_To: Ms. Ellowyn Harding_

_From: Pepper Potts_

_Ms. Harding,_

_After weeks of pouring through other offers, browsing sample pieces, and running the candidates by my boss, he and I have collectively decided that you may have the honor of writing his biography. As shocking as it may seem, Tony Stark is indeed ready to prove to the world that he's more than scandals. He highly enjoys your style and prose, and thinks it best suits him. Mr. Stark and I will be present at the Stark Expo tonight, and would greatly appreciate your attendance._

_Enclosed is a scan of the purchased ticket that will be waiting on you at the entrance. Please bring this, along with your ID, so there's no chance of mistaken identity._

_In lieu of your success in this matter, I'd like to invite you to brunch. After reading your materials and contacting your references, I have no doubts about your capability to write Tony's story. This is merely for your benefit. There's the side the media knows, and the side that I know._

_While they may not initially seem to differ, you will still need to know how to handle Mr. Stark for extended amounts of time._

"Hah. That's funny, Pep. Do you have that little faith in me?" Tony batted his eyelashes roguishly at her. His smirk was wide and pointed; the skin of his cheeks shrank back so it could climb and touch the corners of his goatee.

"Are you going to let me finish this or not? You said you wanted to preview it." she reminded, clearing her throat to negate his unexpected intrusion.

"Finish it." Tony blew out a childish snort. He _hated_ that chastising tone. She meant well, and was often like this to make sure he stayed on track, but Pepper had been different lately. He assumed she was still readjusting from the Obadiah issue, but didn't feel that was totally correct. His beloved assistant was more direct than usual, charging through his meetings and organizing his events with the utmost care.

Tony briefly wondered if she was beginning to realize what he'd found out mere weeks ago. Pepper had been with him long enough to know he wasn't ready to 'settle down'. She glanced fleetingly at his mildly contemplative face – his lips hidden by a lazily curled index finger, chin supported by a thumb, as he lounged against padded Italian leather – before continuing.

_Please meet me by no later than 11:15 for brunch at Mon Cœur._

_Sincerely,_

_Pepper Potts_

"Classy." Tony smiled approvingly. "But you left out the part about where I'll be joining you two."

"No I didn't." Pepper smirked, sending the e-mail. Tony puckered his lips in an _oh_ fashion as her nonchalant but finely barbed reply burrowed in his meandering brain. "_You_ have a meeting to attend to concerning Stark Expo. The dishes needed to be tasted, remember?"

"And I still have to meet the Ironettes!" Tony perked up a bit at that. Honestly, he'd almost forgotten. Stark was never one to forget beautiful women – their names, perhaps, but never their faces. Usually because they all came back screaming at him – but forgave himself this once. Learning about the palladium poisoning, having it confirmed by Fury, had a way of smearing his typical philandering priorities.

His time was equally splintered between a desperate search for a cure, considering the likelihood of not finding one, and figuring out how to parcel out his estate. Thinking of something to keep Pepper and Happy from launching into a bitter depression was on the list, too.

"Yes, you do." Pepper sniffed lightly as she smacked her folders gently into alignment. Tony dimmed his excitement slightly, aware that Pepper had spent a few good years 'taking out the trash'. She'd worried over him and his 'trash' much too much. He needn't cause her any unnecessary worry if these were truly his last few days in the world. Though he didn't want to think so dramatically, he'd considered that these may be his last few moments with the wondrous Virginia Potts.

Actually…he didn't need to consider. Pepper's mission of finding a biography writer was more than a mission. It was a promotion. Tony fully intended to have a live-in writer and stuff Pepper in the familiar stressful and fast-paced environment that was management. She needed something to be buried in whenever they buried _him_.

If they did, that was.

"Enjoy your tasting, Mr. Stark."

"I need a warm-up. Can I have some sugar?" he teased, grin bright and luminous as his arc reactor. Tony Stark was always one for the glitz and glamour. For the flare and fanfare. He needed those elements now to keep Pepper unaware of his gradual but constant deterioration. Pepper gave an honest chuckle at his boyishly extended lips as she declined him.

Tony huffed, pretending to be wounded by her businesswoman mindset.

"Feel free to send me down some samples, though. It's the least you can do." Pepper looked at him over her shoulder. "You know, since you've been burying me in paperwork as of late."

"I'll try," Tony began to tap his pen idly against his desk. His mind was roaming again, partly thinking of something smart to say and partly wondering if one of the Ironettes would give him a 'free squeeze' pass for stopping megalomaniac Obadiah. "I might leave that part out." he joked.

"You're not going with me, Tony." Pepper's soft insistency was accented by the firm but quiet click of her heels leaving the room.

"So you think," Tony murmured with a devilish grin. She'd spent years calling him childish, among other things. Pepper was right about that. Tony didn't like to be told 'no'. "You should know me by now, Pep," Tony mused to himself as he pulled out his cell phone and began typing instructions concerning Ms. Potts' phone to JARVIS, "I get what I want."

* * *

"Here you are, ma'am."

"Thank you, sir."

Pepper's red eyebrow rose in surprise. She was used to hearing manners come from herself. Especially when someone was in a position such as the waiter's. Tony skimped on manners until her elbow found his side. The young blonde's willingness to be polite without hesitation caught her attention.

That was one contrast between her and Mr. Stark, and they hadn't even met yet. While minor, it gave Pepper an idea of how the woman thought. At first glance, based on the way she smoothed out her pencil skirt, draped the cloth napkin carefully over her legs, and conversed, she seemed considerate and educated. Pepper had a feeling that the woman would be constantly excusing Stark, much like she had.

The true depth of Ms. Harding's personality could only be gauged through conversation, though. Pepper intended to see if Ms. Harding could hold her spine against the great Tony Stark. It would be necessary – like water to life – for her to get the project done. Tony was the embodiment of all romantic hazards – maybe even romantic cravings – and the poster boy for men ladies were warned about.

"Thank you for having me, Ms. Potts. I was very shocked to see I'd made the cut." admitted Ellowyn, her smile fluttering with a surprised huff.

"You shouldn't be. Tony thinks you're quite qualified. I think he actually _danced_ after realizing he'd stolen you from Hammer."

"Ah. I see." laughed Ellowyn. _He didn't steal me_, she thought, _I left him._

Something in the blonde's gray eyes dimmed. She saw the light bulb of levity burst as shadows mounted and swathed her concrete depths. Pepper had seen that haunted look in Tony's eyes a time or two. In her own, even, when she stayed up late wondering if Tony would drunk dial her, catch a cab home, stay with another woman, or have an accidentally fatal crash in a prototype suit. "And it's because of those qualifications that I think you'd be perfect as a live-in biographer!" Pepper quickly changed the topic to one of business.

"A-a live-in bi-biographer?" stuttered Ellowyn over her tea. She'd declined the inquiry of wine, as she hadn't drank in nearly a decade. That hadn't been mentioned in the e-mail _or_ the terms. Tony's Manhattan home was a place of notoriety where the media was concerned; it was essentially a modern day bordello of his own making. Ellowyn marveled, and then pitied herself, at the realization that she'd had a drink sooner than she'd had a man.

Was living with Tony Stark the thing she really needed? Maybe not. But if it was a condition of _the_ biggest project of her life, so be it. There were plenty of rooms in that mansion. She'd keep space between herself and the self-proclaimed 'billionaire, playboy, philanthropist' at all costs.

"Yes, yes," Pepper nodded, hoping the repetition would soothe the woman.

"They say writers are tortured souls. Haven't I had my fill, Ms. Potts?"

_Oh, sharp tongue_! Pepper giggled. Ellowyn flushed, not realizing her knee-jerk reaction of being sardonically amusing had kicked in. Pepper Potts was the _last_ person she needed to be talking about Stark in such a way! But…she'd laughed, too.

_Maybe she appreciates it_, Ellowyn relaxed. She felt more like a young girl trembling before the interviewer of her first-ever job than a confident thirty-one-year-old talking business with another adult. _Or maybe she's laughing at me because I don't really know what I'm getting into._

"Writers are also a glutton for punishment, I think." Pepper mentioned, "It helps the process."

"That it does." Ellowyn toasted the process. Pepper joined her.

"So, are you ready for your punishment, Ms. Harding?"

"Please, call me Ellowyn. By the sound of it, we'll be seeing each other more often."

"Ready, Ellowyn?"

"Do your worst." invited Ellowyn, absently corralling her blonde hair to the left side of her neck. She tried not to play with it too much, as they were at a table where food would soon be served, but couldn't help it. It was a writer's habit to make busy fingers.

"Actually, I'm doing a Tony." Pepper pulled out a book of sayings she'd adopted from the famous billionaire. Some were insults; most were pick-up lines. A few were cherished remarks he'd hurled at the press. "This is an exercise to see how compatible you'll be with Mr. Stark in a work environment. Though you may not mean to, I'll ask you to refrain from revising your answers. Blurt the first thing that comes to mind."

"I can do that."

"Good. Let's begin." Pepper shut her purse, always wary of people moving around her. The magnetic latch clicked, clamping down and joining the two sides of her beige purse. Her JARVIS-activated phone continued to actively record the conversation, sending it back to a certain billionaire.

* * *

Tony, still picking at his samples, listened to the device with the giddiness of a prepubescent teenage boy peeking in on an all-girls slumber party. Pepper dropped her voice an octave to imitate his nature male tone. Her attempts to capture his absent-minded brilliance and deliberate exaggerations, the unintentional 'pause for effect' habit he'd gotten from his father, was much more entertaining than being grilled by nervous chefs.

The mysterious Ellowyn was, perhaps, just as entertaining. Pepper told her to respond honestly, and she did. Tony licked a hint of crab cake off his plastic fork, chuckling as Ellowyn's tone lowered to compliment her desire to sound serious, frigid, and businesslike. He hadn't been talked to like that – present or not – in quite some time.

She reminded him of uninterested women who purposefully sat themselves in bars just to shoot men down. Those were the witty and biting types. He liked those. The idea that his soon-to-be biographer was like that, and would be in close quarters, was an interesting development.

Ellowyn, he hoped, would easily occupy his last days.

"_That one was funny, too!"_ he heard Pepper laugh. _"It's uncanny how good you are with retorts!"_

"_I was hit on a lot in my college days. _Everyone_ always tried to hit on my sister and I. They wanted the twin experience, so to speak."_

"Oh, a twin!" Tony purred, chewing idly on his fork. When's the last time he'd done it with twins? "Sexy."

"_You poor thing."_ lamented Pepper. Tony listened to pages ruffle. He pouted lightly. There were _pages_ rustling! _Pages_!

Just how much had Pepper written about him?

"_Oh! Okay, here's one! This is a classic for him. 'You know, your dress would look better on my floor.'"_

"_Your ass looks better walking away."_

"Bet your ass would look better spanked." Tony quipped, aware that the phone couldn't hear him. He frowned after realizing no one was there to high-five his brilliance.

"_I like that one. I might steal it. Hm…I think that's all of his usual arsenal. Let's talk about your buttons."_

"Yes," Tony agreed. "Let's talk about your buttons. How many are there, what size are they, and are any of the strings weak?"

His chest throbbed. It was more than just the echo of his words and the knowledge that any jovial light was absent in his office. The biting palladium poisoning had chewed off a bigger piece of him than normal, it felt. Tony sucked in a breath, held it, and reclined to relax his chest.

Stark's lungs burned from the trapped air, the lack of new air flowing in. That starvation washed over and ironed out the underlying tremors responsible for sapping his energy. The pain had subsided — for the moment.

"_I'll be the first to admit I don't have a lot of commonsense, so if he picks at that _yes_ I'm going to be ticked off. Other than that, I'm pretty laid back."_

"I bet you are. Missionary, right?" Tony couldn't help but growl out, gnashing his teeth in a playful and animalistic manner. He was always hungry for women. Hungry for good conversation and someone to catch his wavelength. Ellowyn could probably do that, based on her responses to Pepper's questions.

"_Anything else?"_

"_Not really."_

"_Then you should be fine, Ellowyn. I look forward to seeing you tonight."_

"_What's the dress code, if I may ask? I've never been to a gala."_

"_Not even for Hammer?"_

"_I was his PR, not his personal escort. Thank god."_

"_A nice dress, then. Low heels will do. You'll wish you killed yourself if you wear anything higher than five inches. Tony likes to have a good time and stay out late."_

"_I see. And am I to assume he'll be drinking?"_

"_Naturally."_

"_That works in my favor, then."_

"_In your favor?"_

"_Sober men are seldom honest men. His drunken vulnerability will give me a lot to work with. It'll help me find the _real_ Stark."_

"_He's very upfront with himself,"_ assured Pepper.

"If only you knew." Tony whispered against the fork. He was being anything _but_ upfront with her. But it was for a good reason.

"_Everyone hides secrets, Ms. Potts. Even yourself, I'm sure. The true task and duty of any writer is to learn extensively and intimately of their subject."_

There was a pause.

"_You're not thinking of…are you?"_

"_I might be."_

"_You're a brave woman, Ellowyn."_

"_What? It's just a body. Everyone has one. They just look different, is all."_

"_Maybe you and Mr. Stark are _too_ compatible."_ Stark heard Pepper moan.

"_We'll see tonight, won't we?"_

"Indeed we will." Tony twirled an end tine between his lightly clenched teeth. Ellowyn was clearly out to bait him for the sake of her work. And, since she was willing to do so, he'd make her _work_ for her work. She'd be getting paid well enough to justify the thoroughness.

Tony was a bit pissed at himself now. He'd asked Pepper to withhold Ellowyn's picture to keep things interesting. To see if he could tune his instincts and hone his radar before biting the dust. That, and he was bored wasting his days worrying and researching a cure. A bit of mystery was fun.

But _damn_ he wanted to put a face to that voice!

He resisted the urge to look her up. Tony physically clenched his restless right hand into a fist to keep himself from activating JARVIS on his own phone. Patience – he knew firsthand – was the sauce that made tawdry succulent, and succulent _orgasmic_.

This could wait. Especially if he had the whole project to spend with her. To size her up. To investigate her. To woo her.

"How long until the Expo, JARVIS?"

"About eight hours, sir."

_Fuck._ Tony scratched his head lazily, blowing out a defeated sigh that echoed deeper and deflated him faster than expected. "I'm going to lay down. Wake me up when it's time to get dressed."

"As you wish, sir."

* * *

Ellowyn clutched her printed ticket and real ticket in one hand, debating on whether or not she should stuff them in her clutch or the strappy cross-sections holding her black dress together. She was always the modest one between her and her sister, but Tony Stark was special.

She needed to bring him down hard and fast to make her point. Pepper made it clear that his attention was quick to float otherwise. Ellowyn had never been one to flaunt her curves for men. The thirty-one-year-old considered herself much too sarcastic and smart to play the stupid sexpot, or any variation thereof.

But she needed to dig her claws into Tony Stark _tonight_. There was no doubt in her mind that women representing other agencies and publishing houses would try to seduce him out of his choice. Dragging the flowing silk under-layer of her long black dress from the taxicab caused the sequined outer material to sparkle with movement. Tiny jewels of pink, purple, yellow, and green light played across her bosoms and middle as she walked into the lightshow that screamed 'Stark'. As she suspected, Tony Stark was not hard to find.

Women swamped him, effectively barring an irritated-looking man from conversing with him. Ellowyn stopped by the bar to pick up a scotch – "Tony's favorite," Pepper said – that would serve as her icebreaker. He drank as much as he talked, she'd heard, so it was likely that he'd be running out.

"…so, as you know, I'm leading the self-sustaining energy market. The idea is based off myself, you know. I'd _love_ to show you ladies."

Ellowyn tried not to scoff at their fawning and generous giggling. Honestly…how could he _not_ want to throw scotch in their faces? _Hush,_ demanded her mind, _you can't drag personal bias into work. Focus on him, not his company!_

"I'd love to show you my interest…if you'd let me." Ellowyn went on autopilot, scrounging for clips of her steamy online roleplays from when she was a juvenile stumbling head over heels into the written word and trying desperately to develop the genres that were uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Words pieced themselves together at light speed, painting a portrait of seduction that only soothed and commanded her when she remembered the syntax and connotations.

She was treating herself like a character in an in-progress novel. Pretending she was writing out her own story. Setting the stage as the sexy stranger that captivated Tony Stark. _You need to get drunk fast_, she thought, _because I can't do this long._

It was true. She'd won several online awards for her inventive smut and teasers she personally considered paltry. Ellowyn could write it all she liked, but acting it was a different animal entirely.

Tony shivered, goose bumps exploding across the nape of his neck as a cool breath indicative of puckered lips skirted across his earlobe. He nearly dropped his scotch glass at the feel of fingers threading slowly and purposefully through his hair. The gentle trickle of something filling his glass caused him to turn his head. A blonde smiled prettily at him, her hand sliding across the back of his head, down his neck, over his left shoulder, and around his lightly bent arm centered in front of his tux's chest.

Ellowyn tried not to cackle victoriously. Tony Stark was giving her _quite_ the owl-eyed look of wonderment. The wrinkles in his forehead quickly smoothed as his eyebrows dipped – like his thoughts – into lusty and intrigued territory.

"It would be a _crime_ not to let you." Tony smiled crookedly at her. He swirled his refilled scotch, eyes trained on her. "You've piqued my interest. Now tell me yours."

"My interest _is_ you."

"Hear my soul speak: the very instant that I saw you, my heart did fly to your service." teased Tony, wiggling his eyebrows. She'd thrown the gauntlet. He was just pulling the string.

"That's 'Hear my soul speak: the very instant that I saw you, _did my heart_ fly to your service.'"

_Oh_, Tony brightened genuinely and truly, like a new set of Christmas lights being used for the first time. This woman was more than his usual company. He didn't know if the women beside him now could actually quote Shakespeare. "And what service may I give such an angel?"

"Your story."

"You'll be here awhile. I'm a very…_thorough_ man." Tony whispered to her, drawing close to mirror her earlier movement of seduction. Ellowyn tensed, not used to such affection. It was her fault, and she knew it, but that didn't ease the reflex. Tony was ready to blame it on the lights and music if she spat at him. Despite the fact that he'd already given his speech and the Ironettes had finished their routine, they were up there performing for the crowd once more.

"I'm prepared." she told him, snagging a passing waiter to order more scotch.

"I like you. You're my kind of woman." Tony blurted out honestly. That one was no pickup line. That was just truth. She ordered him scotch, felt him up, and hadn't even given him her name yet. She was three for three on the long checklist of things that intrigued him.

"Am I?" Ellowyn coolly wrote off his wide grin and confident body language as he strutted to a vacant booth and gave her first choice of seating. "Tell me about yourself."

Tony was telling her _all_ about himself twelve shots of scotch, four screwdrivers, and one jäger bomb later. Unfortunately, it wasn't anything new. News of his womanizing ways and wild parties always made the television. She huffed, crossing her legs angrily beneath the table. Stark's lightly swaying body – grounded by his elbows – lurched slightly.

"Ooh! Footsies! What length is your dress again? I need to know how to move my foot." Tony stuck his tongue out, experimentally fishing for the woman's feet. "You know…" he set glassy brown eyes on her, his foot falling quiet on the floor. He trailed off, forgetting he was even talking.

"That's my chest, Mr. Stark."

"I'm looking at the lights on your chest. And your chest. You have a _great_ chest, by the way."

"You were saying?"

"…that you have a great chest." Tony looked bemused, surprised she hadn't heard him. He could tell he was drunk. It wasn't to a terrible degree, but, what, was she getting contact drunk or something?

"No," Ellowyn rolled her eyes, "Earlier. You were saying? You know, 'You know…'"

"Oh. That. Yeah. I don't know your name!"

"I did that on purpose, Mr. Stark."

"Are you gonna be the nameless one that got away?"

"No. I'm savoring your impending demise. I'm planning to laugh at you about it tomorrow at work."

"Tomorrow…a' work? Oh," Tony sang, "I see. You're the girl Pepper hired."

"Indeed I am."

"Fantastic! Time for your first job, new girl!" Tony stood up to shake her hand properly, and wobbled. The genius laughed at himself, accustomed to this type of thing. Aside from it being funny and shameful that he couldn't hold his sauce better after so many parties, Tony just _liked_ the world when it spun and danced like a kaleidoscope.

It was just _funny_. Or maybe he was funny. Or maybe it was the alcohol making things funny. He was laughing, regardless.

"I'm a biographer, Mr. Stark. My job is clearly defined."

Tony continued on as if he hadn't heard her, "Assist me to a taxi."

Ellowyn managed to catch the surprisingly lean man, her knees buckling slightly under his mildly incapacitated body. Stark was heavier than she'd assumed. "Nice to meet you too, boss." she grunted, helping him out of the Expo.

"The pleasure's all mine, doll." Tony winked, leaning even more of his weight into her as he tried to nuzzle her cheek. "And I'll make it yours tomorrow morning after this hellacious headache goes away." he promised.

"I doubt that." Ellowyn tucked him into a cab. They stopped fast for Tony Stark, she noticed. Ellowyn wouldn't lie; that pissed her off. They never stopped that quickly for _her_. "To Stark Tower, please."

"After our first meeting? Oh you're too kind, new girl. I'm flattered."

"That's not it at all!" protested Ellowyn, blushing furiously. It wasn't and _he _knew it! And she knew it, too, so why should she be embarrassed? _Damn Stark!_

Tony traced a hand across her rosy cheek, noting how dusty pink complimented peach flesh. "We're going to have _a lot_ of fun together." he predicted, enjoying the way she flushed so easily from a harmless but playful comment.

"I look forward to it." Ellowyn replied dryly and flatly, not realizing what kind of door she'd just opened for Tony Stark.


End file.
